After That Night
by Galaxy-Defending-Hopeful
Summary: Danny goes to one of Dougie's patented 'shag nights' and meets a blonde, sexy stranger called Tom. Entranced, Danny soon realises he is in love...but how much will he sacrifice for the one he loves? For kbeto. Multi-chaptered, Flones, implied Pudd, swearing, mild sexual references, references to violence and murder (non explicit) and sickness in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Sorry for not writing for this fandom in...forever. I've had no time and I've been lacking in inspiration. I will write more soon, I promise! This is dedicated to kbeto because I promised him fanfiction ages ago and I wasn't in too good a state so I didn't do it. Flones, swearing, mild mild mild sexual content (it won't squick you, dude, I promise!).**

* * *

Danny ruffled his curly hair while staring into the mirror, giving himself his best 'smouldering' look. Tonight, he was going to get laid. His long, neat legs were wrapped tightly in black skinny jeans, while a slightly baggy plaid shirt made him look manly-yet-elegant.

"Are you almost done prettifying yourself?" the voice made Danny jump as he touched some concealer onto a particularly pustulous pimple on his cheek, leaving him with a streak of makeup across his cheek.

"Yeah – I'm coming, Doug!" frustration was settled in Danny's voice, but he hastily wiped the excess makeup off and hurried into the living room. Dougie, two years his junior but about a thousand people more experienced than him sex-wise, was spread across the sofa in their shared living room, seemingly absorbed in the episode of 'Lorraine' that was blasting out on the television.

"Finally!" Dougie turned on the sofa like a fish on a deck and gave Danny a quick once-over. "Hot as hell. If I wasn't semi-committed to Harry right now, I'd fuck you in a heartbeat."

Danny laughed. "Ya'd fuck me anyway, two years ago."

Dougie gave a considered nod, before pushing himself up on his palms and catapulting himself over the edge of the sofa to stand right beside Danny. "True." he carefully brushed a baked bean that had squished onto his shorts off, before reaching out and pinching Danny's bum, making the older man jump. "I don't drink any more, though, so your chances are a lot slimmer."

"Where is it we're going, anyway?" Danny asked, once he had stopped blushing from Dougie's impromptu bum-touch.

"Shag night. Remember I set it up last year?" Dougie sat down suddenly on the stained carpeting to do up his shoe laces.

"Yeah?"

"Well, Harry was telling me about his fit friend that was going to the one tonight, and I happened to mention that you were getting a bit desperate from some action from _anyone_, and he suggested that you go along as well and the two of you hook up!"

Danny nodded. "We shoul' get off then, shouldn't we? Starts at eight, don't it?"

* * *

Danny had to admit, the woman (called Enman Shi, a name which promoted her Chinese heritage and parents) was attractive. Very, very attractive. Curvy all over, with huge breasts sloping into a big tummy falling downwards into an arse just begging to be touched, which was greeting thick thighs that he was rather tempted to squeeze. Her hair was thick and black, and was cut short on her head to show off her pale, milky-tea coloured skin and her contrasting raven eyes. She was high on his list of fittest chicks he had ever seen.

Personality wise, she was utterly mundane.

"So, uh, where d'ya work?" Danny asked, desperately scraping at the barrel for something that she might answer with more than a single word or a casual touch of his knee that, embarrassingly, sent sparks flying through his genitals.

"Tesco."

"Is it fun?" Danny immediately regretted the question as he thought of his own teenage job at a shop: no, moving jars of jam around and cleaning up food that toddlers had smashed on the floor in tantrum was not fun. What a bloody _idiotic _question.

"Sometimes." her voice was slow and regal, giving the already very imposing woman a further edge to make Danny both uncomfortable and aroused. Then, suddenly, she grinned. "I like sneaking chocolate in with the diet food and the vegetables, to cheer the poor, sad, skinny people up."

Danny smirked, relieved that she had finally said more than a single word. "Dun't the other staff notice?"

"They think it's customers. You know – picking something up, changing their mind and being too bone lazy to put it back. That _does _annoy me, when people do that – you don't do that, do you?"

Without thinking, Danny shrugged and gave a half-nod. "Sometimes, if I'm at the other end of th'a shop."

Enman raised her eyebrows. "I'll take that as a 'yes, all the time', then. If you ever do it when I'm around, you'll regret it." Seeing the frightened look that Danny had, she suddenly roared with laughter. "You look so scared! Don't be silly – it's annoying, I'm not going to murder you for it. Anyway, we don't seem to be getting anywhere so I'm going to try my chances with that gentleman over there, the little one. Thank you for the chat, Danny."

As she advanced upon Dougie (Harry had gone to the lavatory), Danny sighed with relief, only to be immediately spoken to.

"Would you like a drink?"

Turning around, a slim, muscular blonde with eyes like burnt oak wood stood with a glass in hand, staring directly down on Danny. He was infinitely more attractive than anyone else in the room, and Danny felt any trace of awkwardness from his fifteen minutes with Enman vanish.

"Go on, then. What's your name?"

The attractive blonde sat on a stool beside him, writing something on a scrap of paper before sliding it across the quiet bar (Dougie's venture, shag night, was essentially a meet-and-date night that had expanded from the back room of a pub once a month to a whole bar being hired specifically for the purpose once a week) to the bartender. Then, he lifted his head and caught Danny's azure eyes before smiling.

"I'm Tom. Who are you?"

"Danny."

* * *

"Do you play music?" Tom asked at one point during the evening, eyes focussing on Danny's hands.

"Yeah – I play guitar, and I do vocals an' all an' a bit of harmonica."

Tom smiled. "I play guitar and sing as well – and piano, and ukulele."

Danny's eyes widened, and he gently took hold of one of Tom's hands, feeling the rough, calloused skin underneath it. "You've been playin' for ages." he commented, used to the long-hardened feel of skin that had had to work hard for a very long time.

Tom nodded, eyebrows raised. "You've played for longer. You've got sexier hands."

Danny laughed outwardly at that, squeezing Tom's thin fingers. "How can hands be sexy?" he asked.

"You're so careful with them: you're handling me like an instrument."

Danny blushed scarlet underneath his freckles and spots of concealer, a wide grin spreading across his face. "You're a work of art – I though' I was holdin' ya like a paintbrush."

For the first time that evening, Tom laughed, his face breaking into a wide, toothy smile which made him look about fifteen instead of the mid-twenties age that Danny guessed he was. "You're smooth."

"Like your arse." Danny replied, feeling his snappy, clever side that was generally only initiated when he had consumed large amounts of alcohol come into play.

"Probably smoother. More like my balls."

Tom grabbed at the hand that Danny still had wrapped around his own and slid it down to the crotch of his own trousers, keeping direct eye contact with Danny as he did so.

"You'll find that out later, though." Tom's mouth quirked into the little smile which Danny _had _seen often that night, and Danny just about melted, before suddenly pressing his hand firmly against Tom's dick and squeezing a little bit, ignoring the fact that they were in a fairly crowded public place. Tom's eyes widened and the first genuine expression except for his adorable laugh of the night appeared on his face, before he quickly dismissed it and replaced it with a sultry, sexy look.

"You'll pay for that, Danny."

"I can't wait."

* * *

"So, it's called shag night...do ya...um...want to come back to mine?" Danny's words came out like a stumble due to the amount of alcohol the handsome Tom had bought for him, but even through his inebriation he took immense pleasure in seeing Tom nod and bite his lower lip, brushing a strand of dirty-blonde hair from his forehead.

"Of course. Just let me tell my friend James that I'm going."

Tom stood up and crossed the room to a shorter man wearing bright beige shorts, whispered something to him before laughing and crossing back over to Danny.

"C'mon, then." Danny smiled and stood up, grinning as Tom slipped an arm in his. He had been right: he was going to get laid. The two weaved their way through the now full room and out into the cool, dark night, the sweat on their bodies from the heat of the bar chilling rapidly against their pale bodies as Danny lead them in the direction of his and Dougie's shared flat, neither talking as they both thought about the upcoming time they were going to have together. The walk was short and brisk, and the lift ride even faster, revealing to them a thankfully empty flat – Dougie must have gone with Harry back to his. Within moments of the front door closing, Tom was down on his knees.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for such a gap between updates - I've had a few worries about this story. I think it's only going to work out to be 5 - 7 chapters long, so very short, but this chapter is reasonably long so we'll see! Thank you for all of the kind reviews, and I apologize in advance if there are any spelling or grammar issues in this chapter. Also, there's a good dose of Giovanna in this chapter, because I love her passionately.**

* * *

Danny stretched out across the carpet (why was he on the carpet?), a yawn shuddering through his body. Someone, someone very bloody annoying and far too chirpy for this time in the morning, was whistling along with the kettle.

"You're awake, then!"

Dougie. Of course it was. Who else would be back and making tea at the crack of dawn?

"Yeah...what happened last night?" Danny blinked his eyes open and slowly sat up, far too aware of the pounding in his head. Dougie laughed loudly, before crossing the flat and pushing a mug into Danny's hands.

"You got it on with Tom Fletcher."

"How do you know his name?" Danny asked, confusion twirling like mist around his mind as he thought of the things he and Tom had done the previous night. No wonder he was so exhausted.

"Best known prostitute this side of London, not because he's that good, but because he shags anyone as long as he gets to stay somewhere for the night. Doesn't ask for money, just somewhere to go at night. He always turns up to shag night."

The mouthful of tea that Danny had just been about to swallow came spraying out of his mouth onto Dougie's hands, which he promptly wiped on Danny's naked back. Glancing down, he realised that he was entirely naked, causing him to scramble to cover himself up.

"Don't worry, I've seen you naked before – why did you turn into a human hose, though?"

"I- he's a prostitute?" Danny was utterly aghast: Tom, the sweet, attractive man that he had spent the previous night with, the man who had musical hands, was a prostitute? Surely not...he hadn't asked for money, he'd just snuggled up to Danny when they were done and fallen fast asleep. Danny groaned loudly.

"Did you not know?" Dougie asked, a slightly concerned expression creeping onto his face. Danny dejectedly shook his head. "Well, at least you don't have to worry about the awkward, morning-after chat!"

Danny looked up at Dougie, and the younger man showed unusual tact by quickly scampering away towards his bedroom, leaving Danny to his own devices. As it sank in more, one thing occurred to Danny: he had to go to the next shag night and find Tom again, even if only to ask him for an apology...or another shag. Damn, no wonder he had been so particularly talented in the bedroom department, he'd shagged everyone on that side of London - at least, if Dougie's word was to be trusted, he had.

* * *

"Danny, are you sure this is a good idea?" Dougie asked sceptically the next week as the two of them prepared for shag night once more. Firmly, Danny nodded, focusing on his reflected face as he daubed some strange makeup called 'foundation' across his face to hide the plethora of acne that had sprouted since the previous week. Privately, he blamed the spots on the long hours he had spent thinking about Tom, but he didn't think it was wise to tell teasing Dougie that for fear of his sharp wit.

"I've paid twenty quid for loads of this stuff - whatever this is - and I'm goin' to go." Danny firmly replied, indicating the tubes and rolls of various makeup that sat on the sink basin, some used and some not. One particularly cool tube had been recommended to him by his friend Georgia: it appeared green in the tube but when it was wiped against skin, the skin turned pink! Danny smiled a little as he thought of his own reaction to the magical makeup ("Wow! It aint comin' out green - Georgia, what is this bloody stuff?") whilst applying a layer to his chapped lips. Dougie sighed.

"Fine – but if you spend all of next week moping because you got a shag but not a deep meaningful chat, you're barred."

"Wha'ever. Look, we need to go, don't we? And please, don't try an' set me up with bloody Enman again."

* * *

When Danny strolled into the already-filling room, he thought he had prepared himself for everything. He was prepared for Tom not to turn up, he was prepared for another night with Tom and he was prepared for a deep and meaningful chat with him. What he wasn't prepared for, however, was to immediately spy Tom sat at the bar, laughing while talking easily to some woman. Admittedly, the woman was drop dead gorgeous – long, curly brown hair, wide brown eyes, tan skin and a figure to die for – but that only went to make Danny feel even worse as he watched the subject of his affection reach out and lightly touch the brunette woman's shoulder, brushing a strand of her hair back so that it joined the cascade that was sitting on her back, shining iridescently under the low lights of the bar. Together, they glowed.

"One beer, please, and whatever these two are having."

Danny wasn't aware that he had walked up to the bar, but it was his own voice that politely spoke to the bartender. Tom looked up at the sound of his distinctive accent and smiled a little, a polished, practised smile.

"Thanks for the drink." the woman said, before Tom could open his mouth. She turned around to face Danny and gave him a wink. "I'm Giovanna – one of Tom's regular...'customers', and his friend."

"This is my friend Danny." Tom smoothly told her, before pulling a stool out from under the bar and placing it to face himself and Giovanna. "Sit down, Danny."

Danny obeyed, clutching his bottle tightly as he absorbed Tom's features once more. This week, the man was wearing tight black jeans that only served to accentuate his neat muscles and an off-the-shoulder white vest which baggily promoted his strong arms. He was _hot._ Hotter than Danny remembered, in fact, through his alcohol-fuelled memories.

"So, Danny, how did you meet Tom?" Giovanna asked, her voice genuinely interested as she took a sip of her drink – just an ordinary Coke, no vodka, no bacardi, not even a slice of flipping lime. For such an extraordinary woman, she had quite an unexceptional drink.

"Shag night." Danny replied, feeling rather wrong-footed at the woman that he had expected to be another bimbo that Tom was going to service turning out to be a rather sweet lady.

She laughed in the middle of a sip and splattered the brown fluid all over her dark green dress, which only made her laugh more. "Whoops! I met him when we were teenagers, at school – I was the one who introduced him to shag night and suggested he could get somewhere to sleep once a week if he went along."

After a while, the chatter began to siphon off into the occasional word between the three of them as they each sank into their own personal thoughts while sipping at their drinks. Finally, Giovanna stood up, hooking her handbag over her arm.

"I'm not really in the mood tonight, Tom, so I'll leave you two to do whatever...night, Tom, and it was nice meeting you, Danny!"

With that, she clacked off in her low black heels, leaving the two men in a suddenly rather uncomfortable silence.

* * *

Just like the previous week, the night ended with Tom and Danny collapsing sweatily against each other, both panting and exhausted after their mad, passionate acts against each other. However, it was considerably earlier in the evening this time, and in the next room it was easy to hear Dougie and Harry doing something that sounded like it involved a riding crop and something electrical (Danny hazed a guess at a cock ring, having seen Dougie's purchases that week).

"Tom?" Danny gasped out, nestling back into the pillow as the room began to settle.

"Yeah?" Tom's voice sounded different to when he was flirting seamlessly: he sounded much more like when he was discussing music, natural and slightly eager.

"Will ya stay for breakfast?"

There was a moment of silence in the barely-lit room before Tom coughed. "I've never stayed for breakfast for anyone, Danny. Why do you think I'd stay for you?"

Danny smiled, well aware that Tom couldn't see his face. "Because if ya try and sneak out, those handcuffs might find another use."

The noise of disbelief that came from Tom was slightly adorable, but was quickly buried in the past with a hasty, "Okay, then."

Danny, easy to read, open as a book Danny, was going to make breakfast for the enigma that was Tom. And Tom was going to bloody well enjoy it, Danny would make sure of that.

* * *

"So, what do ya work as?" Danny asked as he shoved a couple of rashers of bacon onto Tom's plate, glad that Dougie and Harry were still in Dougie's room.

"I'm a children's book illustrator, but I work at a supermarket most of the time." Tom replied, eyeing the heavy plate that Danny continued to load up for him with a mixture of delight and anticipation.

"Why do ya prostitute yourself for a place to sleep?"

"I live in the cheap part of the Renholm Estate, and I can't afford to move – all I need is one good night sleep a week, and I get sex as part of the deal as well. What more could I want?"

As Tom spoke, Danny noticed that while his tone was polished and polite, he seemed much more at ease and relaxed than he had before, and spoke of what must have been actually a rather personal issue with grace and ease. He couldn't help but wince, however, when the Renholm Estate was mentioned. On the edges of the borough was a large, sprawling, filthy estate covered in squalid blocks of flats, which were as cheap as dirt but also disgusting. You were surrounded by pimps, drug dealers and crack whores. Generally, when people drove through the estate they would lock their car doors and hide any valuables that were in their cars in their glove boxes. It surprised Danny that Tom lived in that squalor.

"Why don't ya apply for benefits?"

Tom laughed. "My job pays _just _enough that I'm not eligible for most payments, but nowhere near enough for me to actually make something of myself. Going to theatre school isn't very useful when there are no acting or singing jobs around."

Danny paused in what he realised was actually an interrogation rather than the light questioning that he had planned to take a long sip of his glass of apple juice. So Tom, the man that he knew so little about, the man that he had slept with before he knew a thing about him, the man he had been lusting after for a week, was a poor man stuck in a dead end job unable to get further in life?

"Why don't ya just get in a relationship and move in with 'em instead of sleepin' around?"

Again, Tom laughed, and spoke slowly when he answered. "I have only ever met two people that I would even _consider _having a relationship with, and I'm nowhere near good enough for either of them."

"You're good enough for them, I bet!" Danny immediately, hotly replied. Tom smirked.

"What good things do you know about me, Danny?"

"You're good at music." Danny was startled to find himself almost angry at Tom's apparent lack of self confidence.

"You've never seen me play, how can you tell?" Tom immediately fired back, eyebrows raised.

"Well – you're good in bed!"

Tom smiled. "Just because I'm good _at _something doesn't mean I'm a good person, Danny. Anyway, thank you for breakfast but I need to be off, I've got work."

"Where d'ya work? I'll drive ya." The eagerness in Danny's voice betrayed the level of his interest in Tom and made the blonde chuckle.

"Morrisons – apparently, there are no books that need illustrating at the moment, and even if there were I've run out of watercolours and can't afford another proper set yet."

* * *

Danny admitted, even to himself, that he knew very little about Tom. His humour had shined through what little they had discussed and he seemed genuinely delightful as well as having a sweetly snarky style of delivering jokes which made him just a touch more adorable than most, but Danny still didn't know much about him. However, he was fairly certain that he loved him, or at least had a strong lust for him. Even sentences that should have been sad, or angry, he delivered with a soft touch to downplay them.

"You know, you'd get a lot more shags at shag night if you just wore that uniform. Really makes ya look fit."

Danny leant against the icecream cabinet, eyes focused on the tight bum in front of him. The owner of the bum jumped before turning around, looking utterly surprised, his face no longer a mask of humour and flirtiness but a natural, rather astonished expression.

"Danny! What are you doing here?"

"Well, shopping. What else do ya do in a supermarket?"

Tom shook his head at Danny, straightening his green shirt and green apron. The uniform really was unattractive, but somehow Tom made it work: all greens and yellows, with a pair of black trousers and the same very worn out Converse that Danny had seen him wear to both shag nights.

"Can I be of assistance?" Tom suddenly asked, as an older man in the same uniform passed by. Danny smirked: obviously a manager.

"Can you show me to where the baby oil is, please? I've run out."

Tom blushed, shaking his head once more: he knew all too well where Danny's baby oil had gone, and would probably be trying to wipe the remainder from inside of himself for days.

"Of course, sir. If you'd just follow me."

As they walked, Danny leant in and whispered in Tom's ear, "I was callin' _you _sir last night."

Tom spluttered but said nothing, merely showing Danny to the baby and toddler aisle before politely requesting,

"Anything else, sir?"

Danny nodded. "Will ya go on a date with me?"

Tom's eyes widened and he seemed genuinely shocked at the question. "Um...I...look, Danny, I'll shag you and I'll even have breakfast with you, but I can't have a relationship with you. I'm not good enough for you."

"Bullshit." Danny immediately replied. "You're clever, you're funny, you're talented, you're sexy. I'm none of them 'cept maybe talented."

Tom smiled briefly at Danny's words. "There are things you don't know about me, Danny, that no one knows about me. If you knew, you wouldn't call me any of those things. I suppose I'll see you at the next shag night."

With that, Tom briskly paced away to help an old woman who was struggling with her trolley.


	3. Chapter 3

**Big chunky chapter for you! Thank you for all the gorgeous reviews, I really appreciate it! I know that some facets of this chapter and the speed at which their friendship/relationship is moving might seem really strange, but there are reasons for it which will come up later in the story. Oh, and I know that Danny swaps between saying 'ya' and 'you', and sometimes pronounces the end letters on words and sometimes doesn't...that's partially because I am a very bad writer and partially because in natural speech, accents don't always affect you - like, I've got a very mild accent that only affects me occasionally, and when it does it's not always on the same words. Love you guys! xxx**

* * *

"Do you know anything about Tom?" Danny suddenly asked Dougie a few nights later, when the two, alongside Harry, were lazily watching a film and eating their way through a small truckload of popcorn. It was a lull in the activity in the film that had encouraged the question that had been playing on his mind ever since Tom had said one particular thing.

"_There are things you don't know about me, Danny, that no one knows about me. If you knew, you wouldn't call me any of those things."_

What things? What had he done? Danny's natural curiosity was piqued, but it had seemed to no avail – he had even gone to the Renholm Estate and asked a few of the least-scary looking people if they knew of a blonde Tom, but none did.

"Well, I know everything that you've told me – I know that he plays music, and I know that he's _so dreamy_..." Dougie sarcastically clutched his fists to his chest and mock-swooned, making Danny reach out and jokingly (though not so gently) punch him in the arm.

"I mean, like, do you know where he was born, or his address?" Danny took another fistful of popcorn and rammed it into his mouth, suddenly acutely aware of how odd his relationship with Tom was. They were barely friends and barely knew each other, and yet Tom had shared incredibly personal details about himself and they had shagged twice. Tom insisted he was a terrible person, and yet refused to share _what _was so bad about himself. It was all very odd, really.

"I'm not a creep, Danny, so unfortunately I don't know those things." Dougie gave Danny a maddening grin before pumping the volume up on the television, and shushing the older man. "It's getting to the good bit, now. You know, when Harry and Sally are in the cafe and Sally fakes an orgasm right there?"

Even Danny admitted that 'When Harry Met Sally' wasn't the manliest of films, but it didn't stop him from giggling away at it along with the other two, and making puns at poor, in-the-room Harry.

* * *

"You know, I'm not going to give up on getting ya to come on a date with me." Danny couldn't help but laugh when Tom leapt in shock at Danny's whispered words, so reminiscent of the first time Danny had spoken to Tom at the shop where the mysterious blonde worked. However, this time is was a genuine coincidence that he had found him – Dougie had (not so politely) requested that he buy some cleaning equipment and solutions, because a 'smell like a dog's arse' was coming from his bedroom. Danny had blushed at this accusation, because he hadn't cleaned up at all since the first time Tom had come over and they had spent a brief amount of their time in his room before they realised Dougie wasn't coming back. The thought of Tom's skin cells lingering in the room was bizarrely attractive to Danny, but even he had to admit that his room was in an utter state.

"You're a stalker, a creepy, supermarket stalker." Tom told him firmly as he recovered his smooth exterior.

"You got a stalker kink as well?" Danny feigned a mildly interested shrug, before breaking out into a grim at Tom's aghast expression. Over the few times he had met him, it was becoming easier to extract emotion without doing something really outlandish.

"What do you mean, _as well_?" Tom asked, mouth slightly open as he brushed back a few tufts of his blonde hair.

"Well, from what I can remember, ya were into everythin' an' anythin'...you've definitely got a BMDS kink, even if nothin' else."

Tom smirked. "That made no sense, Danny – how can I be into everything when we barely tried _anything_? And it's BDSM, not BMDS: I should know."

Danny's eyes widened. "You- I..."

"Do you actually need me for anything, Danny, or are you just trying to spend time with my poor, tortured soul before the next shag night?"

"I'm actually here to get cleanin' stuff, but I saw ya and I couldn't resist sayin' hello. You know, we could meet on more than just shag night, if ya wanted to."

Tom briefly rested his fingertips on his forehead before smiling at Danny. "Is this a slightly more subtle way of asking me on a date again?"

Danny raised his eyebrows. "When have I _ever_ done subtle?"

"Danny, I really like you." Tom was suddenly speaking very quickly and looking into the distance behind Danny. "I would like to go on _one _date with you and see what happens, and it's only my problems that have stopped me agreeing before."

Danny's forehead crumpled and his head turned to one side as he tried to understand why Tom was so ridiculous. "Ya mean, you'll go on a date with me?"

Tom exhaled sharply through his nose, which made a whistling sound which almost made Danny burst out laughing. "I'd like to, yeah. You have to promise you won't get upset if I can't go on another one, though."

Gently, Danny took one of Tom's hands in his, aware that their friendship and relationship was already incredibly complex despite having only met a few times. "Tom, why d'ya have so many problems with yourself?"

Tom sighed. "I'm not legally allowed to tell you, it'd break my protection laws."

"Protection?"

"When I was little, something happened and although I wasn't charged with it because of circumstances, I was still put in a lot of danger because of what I did so I was put under police protection. The whole thing was very well publicised, but because I was only eight, my name and picture weren't released to the public so I'm safe with them. There are people out there that want me dead because of what I did, and quite frankly, I don't trust myself in case I hurt someone again like I did then. Now, we're going for a meal tonight and I will be at your flat at seven to pick you up, so dress nicely."

* * *

_'Eight year old boy, not charged'_

_'Eight boy, scandal, not charged'_

_'Eight year old boy, scandal, not charged'_

_'Eight boy, murder, not charged'_

_'Eight year old boy, assault, not charged'_

_'Eight boy, police protection, not charged'_

Danny hated himself for his intense curiosity – after all, Tom had just revealed something incredibly personal to Danny – but he really wanted to know what Tom had done, and Google seemed to be the best searching option. What on earth could a little eight year old Tom have done? Danny could just picture him, all big brown eyes and impish grin, his blonde hair sticking out around his face. He bet that Tom was a goody-goody at school, and he could tell from the way the older man spoke that he was very intelligent. Danny smiled at his mental profile of little Tom.

"What'cha doing?" Dougie curiously asked, suddenly dumping himself down on the sofa beside Danny and peering at his laptop screen.

"Uh- just tryin' to find some news case that was on when I was a kid. All I remember is that an eight year old boy hurt someone and wasn't charged."

Dougie shrugged. "Do you mean the Maxine Hunter scandal?"

"I dunno. Let me google it."

_Today the child who accidentally stabbed Maxine Hunter to death, known as Child X because his name can't be released, has been relieved of all charges due to the circumstances. Child X was in a cafe with his mother and infant sister when he noticed that Maxine Hunter was preventing her own infant, known as Child Y, from breathing, and brutally stuffing food into her mouth despite the infant only being two months old. Child X intervened, and pushed Maxine Hunter out of the way to reach the infant and try and remove the food from their mouth. However, he pushed the minute 5 foot 1 inch woman who weighed only seven stone so that a steak knife resting on the edge of the table speared her in the stomach. Emergency services were called, and initially Child X was suspected of intentional murder in a comparable situation to the Mary Bell and Bulger cases, but upon the police interviewing him he was unaware that Hunter was dead. After a lengthy trial with thirteen eyewitnesses including Child X's own mother, it was understood that Child X was innocent of intentional murder and due to his young age of eight, he wasn't considered to be responsible for his actions._

"_He was trying to help Child Y, and he can't be blamed for what happened. Maxine Hunter was infamous for being part of one of the largest violent gangs in the area, and her violent and public child abuse is the real problem here. How is it that the only person who stepped in to help Child Y was only a child himself?" Police Spokesman Officer Alisha March said._

_Many have disagreed with the zero sentencing of Child X, with one man stating,_

"_He might only be a kid, but he should have been charged with manslaughter and punished appropriately. He killed a woman, however unintentionally."_

"Yeah, I think that's the one I was lookin' for – thanks, Dougie."

Danny felt vaguely faint as he read and re-read the paragraph. Tom had accidentally killed a gang member when he was only a tiny child himself. There was no doubt in Danny's mind that Child X was Tom – it sounded too much like him to be anyone else. Poor Tom obviously blamed himself for killing her, even though he was trying to help a tiny child. Blimey, though – no wonder he needed police protection if this Maxine woman had been in one of the biggest violent gangs. Sympathy welled up in Danny, but was quickly replaced by nerves when he realised he only had an hour before Tom would arrive for their date. Him and Tom. Tom the prostitute. Tom the accidental murderer. On a date.

Danny could barely wait.

* * *

Tom's trim frame was wrapped in clothes that were much more formal than the other occasions when Danny had seen him: instead of his trademark tight jeans or his work uniform, he was in a white shirt which was just slightly too big for him, a dark blue tie and matching blue trousers. However, his simple Converse still plodded along beneath him, supporting him.

"Hi, Danny."

Danny grinned before lunging forwards and hugging Tom, his arms thrown lazily around the man's shoulders. "Alright, Tom?"

"Yeah – looking forward to getting there. Um, I'll just warn you know that my car is quite old, and it kind of feels like you're sitting on the road itself when it goes quickly." Tom's hands were twisting nervously together, and when Danny pulled away mid-way through Tom's cautious sentence, he noticed the slight tremor in the man's arms. Thoughts of the news article he had read earlier flooded his own mind, but he swiftly pushed them away as he called a goodbye to Dougie (and Harry, who was trying to convince Dougie to do something called a 'salt water purge') and followed Tom down to the courtyard between the small blocks of flats, where a very battered blue Mini Cooper was sat.

"Great wheels. Is that a Ferrari?" Danny asked Tom, grinning.

"Yep – latest model, only came out last month. Cost the earth, but I can afford it because I'm some rich business man from America."

Without really realising, the two joined hands.

* * *

"Since I can afford a Ferrari, I thought I'd take you to the most expensive restaurant in town – hence the suits." As Tom drove, he briefly waved a hand over the two – Danny had taken Tom's words in the supermarket to heart, and was also dressed neatly in formal black trousers and a dark blue denim shirt.

"What's it called?" Danny asked, smiling at their little fantasy conversation and trying to ignore the violent vibrations of the car seat beneath himself as Tom rocketed along a clear road. This car was _brutal_.

"You'll see." There was a moment of silence before Tom spoke again, this time his tone plain and slightly apologetic. "In all seriousness, though, it's a bit of a crappy place but I know the owners and they give me really good discounts _and _they do what I order fresh instead of getting some old crap out of the freezer, so it'll be alright. Sorry that I can't afford better, but I can barely afford this old piece of metal, so I'm not going to be taking you to the Ritz."

Danny brushed a strand of his dark brown hair out of his face before speaking softly. "Tom, don't worry. If ya can't afford it, it don't matter. I was going to pay half anyway, so don't try and be all noble."

"I asked you on this date, I should pay."

"Tom, I don't think you've been on many dates, have ya – if two people are on a date and only one pays, the other one is automatically a knob. I'm payin' half."

As the car trundled to a halt beside a squat, crumbling building, Tom smiled.

"Thanks."

* * *

"Tom, ya know ya mentioned somethin' that happened when you were a kid...was it the Maxine Hunter scandal?" It was the middle of the meal when Danny slipped the sentence out easily, before putting another forkful of his admittedly gorgeous pasta dish into his mouth. The reaction Tom gave back was not what he was hoping for: the blonde's face scrunched up and his fork clattered to the floor.

"Are you okay, Tom?"

The owner of the seedy but family-orientated restaurant, a curvy, black-haired woman in her late fifties, bustled over as soon as she heard the clanking of the metal fork onto the floor.

"Y-yeah, Mary, I'm fine. Sorry for worrying you!" he gave her a shaky smile, which made her eyes widen a little bit. Her arms were around him in seconds, and he was in a bone-crushingly tight hug for almost a minute before she let go and left the table again, grumbling under her breath. During this display of almost motherly affection, Danny had cast his eyes down to the table and mentally assaulted himself for asking so soon into their friendship.

"Danny." Tom spoke clearly, running his fingers through his tufts of soft hair.

"Look, Tom, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"I'm Child X."

Tom's frank statement surprised Danny: he had expected, despite Tom's apparent good common sense, a tantrum, or tears, or anger. He had not anticipated Tom simply admitting it.

"Ya know that ya didn't do anythin' wrong, right?" Danny asked, once his initial surprise had faded. Tom looked curiously at him.

"I murdered someone."

"Ya were eight and it was an accident an' you saved a baby's life."

"Leona." Tom replied. "Her name is Leona."

"Do ya...still know her?" Danny asked. Tom nodded briefly.

"She's glad that I saved her life, but she's only recently stopped being pissed at me for killing her mum."

Danny sighed and rubbed his forehead. "You didn't kill her – it was an accident. Killing is when you do it on purpose. Ya just...accidentally ended her life."

That enticed a laugh from Tom. "Danny, you're an idiot, bless you."

"Do ya still blame yourself?"

Tom nodded. "Of course I do – how could I ever forgive myself?"

"I don't think there's anything to forgive. Ya were doin' your best to help someone, and she sounds like a royal bitch anyway."

Blinking, Tom took another forkful of his dinner before quietly, hesitantly asking, "So, you don't blame me?"

Danny vigorously shook his head, and one thought crossed Tom's mind: _I'm in love_.


	4. Chapter 4

**I hope you enjoy this chapter! I apologize in advance for the naughty sex chat (don't worry, Carlos, it's nothing explicit) and swearing. Also, if there are any spelling or grammar problems, I am sorry but I had to write this in the box on because my writing program has messed up and deleted a load of functions. Please enjoy!**

* * *

_CHILD X REVEALS IDENTITY!  
Child X, the notorious child who was the key character in the Maxine Hunter scandal, has allegedly revealed himself to a mysterious man. Child X and the man are pictured to the left enjoying a romantic meal...but their identities are yet to be identified. A reliable source stated that the man confessed to being Child X, while the other man told 'Adult X' that he was not at fault. So what is the real identity of 'Adult X', and who is the mysterious man that he has confessed his identity to?_

* * *

Danny stared down in horror at his and Tom's face, captured blurrily at one point during the meal, as they shone out on the front page of multiple newspapers and magazines. Tom's conversation with him had been overheard, then. Just as he looked down, the mobile phone in his pocket began to blast out the theme tune he had immediately assigned to Tom's number when he had been given it: Bringing Sexy Back.  
"Have you seen them?" he asked as soon as he answered the phone, at the same time as Tom breathily said down the phone,  
"Danny, I need you to come here."  
Then, again at the same time, Danny said,  
"What's ya flat number?" while Tom began to cry and stuttered out,  
"Y-yes..."  
Silence followed, before Tom gulped out his flat block and number.  
"Give me ten minutes, Tom."

* * *

When Tom answered the door to the flat, Danny immediately felt a tug in his stomach at the state poor Tom was in: dressed in a pair of boxers and a T-shirt, he was still breathy and tearful and was clutching an empty mug.

"Come in..." Tom mumbled, stepping backwards, his voice dull and pitchy. Danny entered the flat immediately, grabbing Tom by the shoulder and propelling him inwards and slamming the door.

"Sit down, Tom. I'll get you a cuppa. Um...where's ya kitchen?"  
Dully, Tom pointed to the left of him, and for the first time Danny truly absorbed his flat. Despite the 'grubby' outwards appearance of the flats (to the point where Danny had parked a mile away from the flats to avoid being thieved), Tom's flat was pretty magical. The walls were all a dark crimson colour, but lit with white fairy lights that shone out prettily, twinkling beautifully. The floor was plain polished oak boards, but a huge, shaggy red rug lay on it. In the living room, a huge, squashy red sofa commandeered most of the space, with a short, scratched coffee table and a pile of books taking up the rest of the room. The kitchen was a small, open area beside the living room, with a tiny fridge, a microwave, a side-oven and a plethora of cupboards. A tiny kettle which would barely take one cup of water cheerfully sat by the sink, along with a row of bright, primary-coloured mugs.

"Your flat is adorable!" Danny couldn't help but exclaim as he observed the flat which suited Tom's personality so well.

"Thank you." Tom's voice was the same quiet, flat tone, and it worried Danny immensely. Still, he hastily filled the kettle and boiled it up, shifting through a cupboards to find a tea bag and brewing a perfect cup before re-entering the living room to comfort Tom.

"Now, I take it ya saw all the _crap _in the newspapers today." Danny plopped down beside Tom on the squishy sofa and immediately moved close to him, resting a hand on his knee and putting an arm around the older man's tense shoulders.

"Yeah."

"Ya need to grab your tits and stop worryin' about people. They can't prove that ya told me about Maxine bloody Hunter, and even if they can, they can't just suddenly stop lookin' after ya if there's danger."

Tom looked up, his breathing still heavy and eyes still glistening. "Grab my _tits_?"

"Ou' of what I said, ya chose to pick on the phrase I used?"

Tom smiled. His usual smooth, clean exterior, so polished, was gone, and he was 100% unadulterated Tom Fletcher, which made Danny smile as well. "In case you hadn't noticed, I don't actually have breasts."

Danny moved his arm from around Tom's shoulder and scrabbled at his chest, glad to hear that Tom's breathing was evening out and he wasn't so tearful any more.

"Get off me, pervert!" Tom cried, slapping at Danny's hands, which just lead to Danny tickling his armpits instead. Tom shrieked with laughter and tried to bat his date away from himself, and within a minute Tom was face down and squirming as Danny knelt over him, tickling him.

"Stop! Stop!" Tom's giggles broke his speech as he pushed his face into the pillow, suddenly freezing and going silent. Danny continued to tickle him, before bringing his head close to Tom's ear and whispering,

"If ya ever get sad again for somethin' ya don't need to be sad for, I'm gonna punish ya like this."

Finally, Danny finished tickling Tom and knelt backwards, allowing Tom to turn around and look up at him.

"You know, you could just spank me instead. I don't wear a leather belt for nothing, and I'm sure Dougie and Harry would share their riding crop if it was in my best interests." Tom smiled up at Danny, the surprised expression on Danny's face pleasing him.

"You'd enjoy it too much." Danny replied, grabbing Tom's waist and giving him another brief tickle.

"So would you. _When disciplining a child, it should be done with formality and sternness - a smile will never be appropriate. _First year health and social care." Tom grabbed Danny's hands and pulled him down onto himself, before whispering in his ear, "Maybe you could send me to my bedroom, instead."

Ten minutes later, the two were both in Tom's room.

* * *

Tom put down the phone, a relieved smile gracing his face.

"Go well, then?" Danny anxiously asked from Tom's kitchen, where he was preparing a basic dinner for both of them. After Danny "sent Tom to his room" (and their naughty excursions WITHIN the bedroom), Tom had decided to phone the local police and find out if he would still have their protection.

"I'm still protected and they've issued instructions for no further details of my 'story' to be published - if media institutions do, they'll be sued." Tom smiled up from the sofa, before leaping through to the kitchen and grabbing Danny into a hug. "Thank you for coming over, Danny. I was throwing up and having panic attacks this morning, and then you calmed me right down - in more ways than one."

Danny smirked. "It's only lunch time, dude - calm ya dick down."

Tom slipped his arms around Danny's waist from behind, resting his head on the man's shoulder. "What are you making? I don't keep much food around - I can't really afford it."

"Pasta. And dude, maybe you'd afford more food if you were a proper prostitute, or if ya didn't try too 'ard to make your flat pretty."

"I didn't buy this stuff for myself!" Tom defensively replied, poking Danny in the stomach. "Customers have bought some of it for me, and some bits are presents for my birthday and Christmas, and some of it is from when I had a good job!"

"I'm kiddin', Tom." Danny peeled Tom from himself easily, before stirring the pan. "Here's hopin' you like it."

"I like anything that you put in my mouth." Tom replied, winking as he slid himself to rest on the countertop beside Danny. "You should know that by now."

"Jesus, I can see why you're a prostitute."

"I _was _a prostitute." Tom replied. "If you'll let me ask, would you like to be my boyfriend?"

Danny laughed. "I'd kinda guessed we already were. You're welcome to sleep over at mine whenever you need to get away from here, y'know."

"That's what my first girlfriend said." Tom absent-mindedly replied. "I was six. When I turned up at her house in the middle of the night her mum freaked out and phoned mine, and my bedtime was reduced by half an hour for two weeks."

Danny laughed. "How did ya get out of your house in the middle of the night when you were six?"

Tom smiled. "I stole my mum's key after she locked up for the night. She wasn't very pleased with me."

"I never pictured ya as a naughty kid." Danny commented, dipping his finger in his pasta sauce and tasting it.

"I wasn't. I was a good boy - I only started getting naughty when I met you."

"I wasn't very good." Danny smirked. "At primary school I got suspended."

"What for?" Tom exclaimed. "I never even got a detention at primary school!"

Danny coughed, blushing a little. "I hit a teacher who used 'gay' as an insult."

"Funnily enough, the one detention that I got at secondary school was for having a go at a teacher who said that bisexual people were greedy."

Danny laughed loudly. "You only got one detention at secondary school?"

"Yeah - I was a goody-goody, you don't need to tell me. I suppose you were that kid who was always in trouble but the teachers loved."

Eyebrows raised, Danny spoke. "I bet you were that kid that pretended to hate me when really you just fancied me."

"I bet you were that kid who asked to copy my homework all the time."

"I bet you were that kid who reminded the teacher there was homework."

Tom mock-gasped. "How _dare _you, you cheeky northern git?"

With a flourish, Danny grabbed two plates that he had prepared and tipped pasta onto each. "I made ya a sexy as fuck lunch, you can shut ya mouth or I _will _spank ya."

Tom accepted a plate, before winking. "All you think about is sex, Danny. Really, you should go to a doctors, you've got some weird obsession with punishing me, you need to go and get sorted out. It's like E.L. James is writing you."

True to his threat, as Tom turned his back to sarcastically storm into the living room with his dinner, Danny whacked him across the back of his jeans with the dirty wooden spoon. Surprisingly, however, Tom turned and winked.

"Thanks, sir."

* * *

_CHILD X IDENTITY REVEALED_

_After the mysterious photographs of Child X all grown up and a mysterious gentleman sharing a meal surfaced yesterday, hundreds of readers wrote in with their thoughts. One, however, wrote in with his true identity - which we won't be revealing to you. Child X was innocent as a child, and revealing his identity would be dangerous for him as an adult. However, we ARE able to reveal the identity of his company - a man named Danny Jones, notorious in his local area for his musical talent. Danny was unavailable for comment, but someone close to him who requested to be referred to as 'Captain Dougwash' stated,_

_"Danny and X are just trying to form a relationship. I haven't talked with Danny about this, and while I've known X for a few years, I didn't know of his past, and yet even I know that what X did was an accident and that he doesn't deserve to have his privacy stripped from him."_

_Here at OK! magazine, we feel that X is not personally responsible for what happened, and that the information provided here should be used responsibly. Remember that he was an eight year old, and treat this information as informative rather than an excuse to cause trouble and unhappiness!_

The article was most unlike any that Danny had ever read in a gossip magazine: it was written stiltingly, and there was a freaking _disclaimer _at the end. It didn't please him at all to see his own name in the print, but he was so glad to see that Tom was protected. Glancing beside him at Tom, who was still fast asleep, he decided not to wake him but instead go to Facebook on his mobile.

**Seven hundred and forty two friend requests, nine hundred messages, five hundred and seven notifications.**


End file.
